Love Lessons: Old Friends
by clagjanet
Summary: Lee and his uncle chat - in an indirect manly way - about parenthood.


Disclaimer: none of these characters belong to me; they belong to Shoot the Moon Enterprises and Warner Bros to whom I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to take them out for a spin and bit of light humour.

* * *

Phillip was already scrambling out of the front seat of the Wagoneer almost before Lee had finished pulling up in front of the house.

"Uncle Bob! Did that fuel pump arrive yet?"

Lee shook his head, still amazed that the Colonel had apparently mellowed so much that he'd insisted the boys call him Uncle Bob. He still wasn't sure he'd ever be able to think of him as anything but 'The Colonel,' but Phillip and Jamie had none of that emotional baggage and had simply gone with the flow.

Robert Clayton had already pulled himself out of the Adirondack chair on the porch as they'd driven in, coming to stand at the top of the steps, lips twitching at Phillip's enthusiasm. "It sure did, Son. Picked it up at Jake's this morning. It's on the workbench."

"Awesome!" Phillip shot off toward the garage that currently housed a mostly taken-apart jeep.

"How about at least saying hello?" Lee called after him, shaking his head. "And asking first?"

Phillip skidded to a stop and looked back at them sheepishly. "Sorry, Uncle Bob. Can I…?"

"You may," the Colonel grinned at him, all while attempting to hide his amusement at the way Lee had slipped so easily into that exasperated parental tone. "But don't forget to pull on some coveralls this time. I don't want to be at the pointy end of another conversation with your mother about the difficulties of getting out grease stains."

"No Sir! I mean, yes Sir!" answered Phillip, already back on the move toward the jeep.

Lee rolled his eyes and turned to find Jamie, who had sunk to a sitting position in the middle of the gravel driveway and was deep in conversation with Sarge, the elderly black lab that followed Robert everywhere. They'd been joined by a bowlegged fox terrier who, knowing a good thing when she saw one, had wormed her way onto Jamie's lap and was fighting for equal attention.

"Another new recruit, Colonel?" Lee grinned.

"Yeah, that's Ellie," replied his uncle. "Named her after Eleanor Roosevelt because she turned out to be bossy."

"So yet another airman who doesn't obey your every command?" said Lee, turning to step up onto the porch to join his uncle. "Some people might say you're going soft."

After his retirement a few months before, Colonel Clayton had bought a house with a few acres of land in Virginia, close enough to Washington to make it easy to drive in for the occasional consulting contract he got at the Pentagon, but far enough away to be almost completely quiet at any time of day. Unused to being completely by himself after so many years in the military, he'd dropped into the local animal rescue thinking it might be helpful to have a guard dog on the property. It had been a good thought, but he'd come away instead with Sarge, grey around the muzzle and a pronounced limp, but with a tail that still wagged hard enough to clear low lying coffee tables of anything on them and a complete adoration for the man who'd taken him home after finding out he'd been at the shelter for eight months. Sarge had been followed by a one-eared barn cat named Yeager who, the Colonel had explained seriously, was required to keep down the mice. Lee had never seen Yeager do anything except sleep and get underfoot in the kitchen, but he'd reserved his comment about the shelter manager seeing his uncle coming a mile off for Amanda's ears only. He could hardly wait to tell her about the latest geriatric addition to the squadron.

"Yeah, well, they keep me getting up in the mornings," the Colonel responded to Lee's comment with a grin. "I guess it doesn't do any harm to let them think they're in charge." He led Lee into the kitchen of the small house – everything shipshape and in its place as always – and opened the fridge. "Beer, Skip? It's a hot one out there."

"Yes, please," answered Lee, gratefully. "You think it's hot up here today, you should try being in town. It must be 98 in Arlington right now."

"Surprised Amanda didn't come up with you then," answered his uncle. "I would have thought she'd want to get out of that for a while."

"She said it was too hot to do anything except go to a nice air-conditioned mall," Lee chuckled. "And besides, she's still getting a bit car sick these days on long trips." He shot his uncle a sideways look. "I don't know why they call it morning sickness – she turns queasy at the drop of a hat."

Robert grinned at the mix of embarrassment and pleasure evident in Lee's voice.

They'd both turned without question to walk out the back door and stand on the back porch that overlooked the neighbor's pasture field, separated from the Colonel's property by a simple timber fence. On the far side of the field, Lee could see a horse half asleep in the dark shade of a large tree, its head drooped so low that its nose almost touched the ground, its tail swishing lazily to sweep away the flies that were no doubt buzzing around it. It looked every bit the epitome of equine contentment.

"New neighbor?" he asked, gesturing to it with the bottle in his hand.

"Just got here this week," confirmed his uncle. "Nice little thing, sweet natured and quiet – just what you want in a neighbor," he added with a smile.

Lee didn't speak for a few moments, his eyes resting on the dozing horse. Eventually, unaware he was even moving, he pushed himself off the porch beam he'd been leaning against and walked over to the fence to lean on it, his uncle only a few steps behind him.

"Do you remember Cherry?" he asked, suddenly.

"Was that one of your girlfriends?" asked Robert, wrinkling his forehead in thought. "I could never keep them straight."

"No," said Lee impatiently. "Cherrybomb – she was that mare I had when I was ten when we were living in Cherbourg. How could you forget that?"

"I'm pulling your leg, Skip. Of course I remember her," laughed Robert. "That horse was your first true love. Probably your only one actually, until you met Amanda."

Lee shot him a quick grin. "You're not wrong there." His gaze drifted back across the pasture. "I thought for a while that I'd like to get a horse again – for the boys, you know."

"And the next little Stetson?"

"Mmm," agreed Lee absent-mindedly. "But between Amanda being allergic and Phillip being more into cars, I guess it's kind of silly to think about. Cherry did me a world of good back then, but I guess I needed her more than the boys do."

"She was definitely what finally got you to settle down," agreed Robert. "Up until then you'd been a restless little guy – I never knew what trouble you were going to get into next, but boy, when you met her, that all just dropped away. You spent more time at the barn than you did at home. I think you would have slept in her stall if I'd let you."

"Probably," replied Lee, taking another swig from his bottle. "She kept me in school though – I lived in fear of you making good on that threat to sell her if my grades didn't improve."

"I wouldn't really have done that, you know," said his uncle, turning to study his profile. "Grades or not, she kept you on an even keel for a long time. That horse brought you almost back to being the happy-go-lucky kid you were before… well, that made it worth the hoops I had to go through to get her shipped back to the States with us when we got transferred home."

"I probably never did thank you properly for that," said Lee with a grimace. "God, she was a good friend; let me break her to the bridle like it was nothing, let me tell her all my secrets and never told another soul..." He heaved a sigh. "Dumbest thing I ever did was sell her."

"Well, you were determined to pay for college yourself," said Robert, placidly. "God knows you wouldn't take a penny from me or an Air Force scholarship."

"The scholarship would have meant joining up," said Lee, quickly.

"And taking anything from me would have stuck in your craw," finished Robert.

"I'm sorry I was such an ass, Sir" Lee turned sideways to lean on the fence so that he was looking at his uncle. "I never realized until later what a miserable piece of crap I must have been to have around."

"Until you got boys of your own, you mean?" Robert chuckled.

"Oh Phillip and Jamie aren't anywhere in the same league as I was," countered Lee. "They don't go looking for trouble like I did – it just happens to find them from time to time."

"Well, you better hope the next addition takes after his or her mother then," laughed Robert. "Or you are in for a world of hurt."

"Believe me, I pray for that every night," grinned Lee, making his uncle bark with laughter.

"That's a pretty horse," said Jamie, clambering up onto the fence beside them. "Can I go pet it?"

"Oh she'll come right over if you want," said Robert. He leaned down to where Lee now saw there was a bucket of apples in the shade of one of the fence posts, and handed one to Jamie. "Give her a call, Skip."

Lee turned to lean back across the fence and without thinking, he whistled out the little tune he used to use to call Cherry across the pasture, remembering the way she had always perked up at the sight of him and trotted to greet him with a happy whicker every time.

Across the field, the sleepy horse lifted her head and looked around lazily at the sound. Lee could tell the moment she caught sight of them, the way her ears flicked forward with interest. He whistled again and watched her head come up fully as she shook herself and then stepped out of the shade to amble toward them and he saw her properly for the first time.

"Oh my God."

He had dropped the beer bottle and jumped over the fence before he knew it, striding across the field as she picked up a trot and met him halfway, butting her head into his chest with the same nicker he remembered. He ran his hands along her neck, reaching to scratch behind her ears, laughing when she pushed her way around him to nuzzle at his back pocket where he had always kept a peppermint for her.

"Sorry Cherry girl, nothing there today," he crooned. "I didn't know you'd be here." Cherry gave him another not-very-forceful headbutt to the chest before reaching to lip at his hair. Lee reached up to push her away, grabbing her muzzle to kiss her on the velvety skin there like he'd done a thousand times before. He stepped back then, still grinning idiotically, seeing for the first time the grey hair among the roan around her muzzle and eyes. He turned to look at his uncle and Jamie who had followed more slowly, along with the dogs. "How?" he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion. "How is she here?"

"I said you wouldn't take a penny from me," Robert said with a grin. "I never said you didn't."

"What?" Lee was hopelessly confused, even as he continued to run his hand along Cherry's neck and shoulders as if he still couldn't quite believe it was her.

"You only thought you sold her to Major Thompson for his grandkids," said Robert. "Actually, I just gave him the money to give to you and told him to keep shtum about it."

"I don't understand," said Lee. "Then where has she been all this time? My God, she must be…" he did the mental math "29 years old? 30?"

"Just coming up on 30," confirmed his uncle. "And she really was with Greg Thompson since you left for college. He retired to Oklahoma, took her with him, kept her for me all these years. I gave him money from time to time just to help with vet bills and such, but mostly he really was just happy to have her around for his grandkids. She turned out to be quite a handy little barrel racer, but she's past that now. Anyway, his grandkids got older, got better horses and when I bought this place, I asked my neighbor if I could rent out the pasture and brought her up to join the rest of us retirees." He held out an apple, letting Cherry delicately bite it in half before handing Lee the other half to feed to her.

"This was your horse you told us about?" asked Jamie, interestedly. "And she remembers you? Cool."

"They have pretty long memories," answered Lee. "And we were friends for a long time."

"She doesn't seem very big – didn't your feet touch the ground when you rode her?" Jamie asked, tilting his head to study her.

"Well, I was more your size at the time," grinned Lee, "But yeah, she was getting too small for me by the time I sold her." He ran his hands along her back and stepped back to really look at her. "I still can't believe you had her all this time."

"Well, I thought it would only be until you settled down and had kids of your own," admitted his uncle. "That took longer than I thought," he quipped, "but she should still make a nice little rocking-horse ride for your little one."

"She's still sound enough to ride?" Lee asked in surprise. "Even at her age?"

"She sure is," said Robert. "Maybe not for you but the kids would be fine. She's not as quick as she once was, but neither am I," he added with a grin that Lee returned. "Doesn't mean either of us are completely useless yet."

"Never said you were," retorted Lee.

"You would have – eventually," Robert shot back.

"Hey Jamie! Come and help me with this for a second!" Phillip's voice drifted across to them from the doorway of the garage.

Jamie turned to go, but was stopped by Robert's voice. "Tell him no trying the engine until I get there to check it first."

"Yes Sir," Jamie grinned, as he darted off.

"Learned that one the hard way," remarked Robert, with a grimace, turning back to Lee.

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" groaned Lee. "I was barely Jamie's age!"

"Why do you think I got you Cherry?" Robert chuckled. "I figured shovelling manure would be the best punishment and keep you away from the motor pool until the boys down there forgot about it."

Lee laughed as he slung his arm over Cherry's neck and leaned into her. "Two birds with one stone, hey?"

"Something like that," agreed Robert. He glanced back at the garage ruefully. "I'll go see what those two are up to and leave you two to get reacquainted." He reached into his jacket pocket, and tossed Lee another apple, before turning to walk away.

"Uncle Bob?"

Robert turned back, faintly surprised at hearing Lee call him that after all these years

Thank you," Lee said quietly.

"No problem, Skip. Like I said, Greg Thompson really did all the work."

"That's not what I…" answered Lee. "I mean, thank you for this, obviously, but I meant… well… thank you. For all of it."

"Oh." Robert met Lee's gaze, hazel eyes looking back at him with the same clear-eyed intensity as Matt had always had. "You're welcome… Lee."


End file.
